


get a lick of this lovin'

by Rabbitt



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fingerfucking, M/M, Multi, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabbitt/pseuds/Rabbitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are benefits to being Lexie DeWitt, Audrey knows. Or pretending to be Lexie. Whatever. For one thing, Audrey Parker would not be caught dead wearing a miniskirt to work. Chasing after serial killers through six inches of New England spring mud in a skirt and heels? No, thank you. Lexie, on the other hand, likes skirts, and boots, and is ambivalent on the whole underwear situation - all of which really comes in handy when her sort-of not-boyfriend presses his mouth to the hook of her jaw and whispers, “Hey, can I go down on you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	get a lick of this lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> We'll call this an early season 4 AU wherein the three of them knuckled down and navigated a polyamorous relationship. 
> 
> Title from Dev’s “Bass Down Low”. I regret nothing.

 

There are benefits to being Lexie DeWitt, Audrey knows. Or pretending to be Lexie. Whatever. For one thing, Audrey Parker would not be caught dead wearing a miniskirt to work. Chasing after serial killers through six inches of New England spring mud in a skirt and heels? No, thank you. Lexie, on the other hand, likes skirts, and boots, and is ambivalent on the whole underwear situation - all of which really comes in handy when her sort-of not-boyfriend presses his mouth to the hook of her jaw and whispers, “Hey, can I go down on you?”

 

“Here?” she hisses back at him, glancing around the station. Duke is standing behind her, his rangy frame bent over her shoulder far more conspicuously than any career criminal had a right to be. But then, would anyone really be alarmed to see the two of them having a hurried, secretive conversation, at this point? It says something about her life - this life, anyway - that people are more likely to assume she’s plotting some kind of magical murder conspiracy instead of trying to figure out the logistics of… whatever the hell the three of them have been doing. The part of her that is Audrey Parker, whichever part that is, doesn’t get hysterical, but if it did - well, it’d probably start laughing about that, and never stop.

 

“What, _here_ here?” Duke says. His breath is warm against her neck. “Uh, no, I meant tonight, in some place with walls that aren’t glass and maybe a bed and not a _police station_ , but - “

 

“I like here,” Audrey says abruptly. She smiles, testing it out. The amusement, the little thrill of _that’s fucked-up let’s do it_ \- that’s Lexie. It’s not exactly like having a voice in her head, but sometimes she knows the words Lexie would’ve said. She can feel her, sometimes, her reactions layered crookedly under Audrey Parker’s. Like a phantom limb. “How about here?”

 

There is a stretch of silence from behind her.

 

“Huh,” Duke says, finally. “Sure.”

 

She slides away from him without looking back, knowing he’ll follow.

 

“What’s the matter, Crocker?” she says, when he shuts the door to her and Nathan’s office behind them with a wary look. There’s no lock on this door. “Scared?”

 

Duke pulls the blinds down.

 

He turns toward her, head cocked, appraising. She likes this about him - the way he says yes, how he doesn’t back down, not because she goads him, or because he is scared, but because he always, always wants what she and Nathan are offering.

 

Duke rubs at the back of his neck, more for show than anything, she figures, letting out a sigh. “One of us needs to make good decisions once in a while, you know?”

 

“You think that’s gonna be you, huh?”

 

“No,” he says. He steps closer, reaching out to her waist. Audrey doesn’t move, lets him slip broad hands around her. His fingers slide under the bottom of her shirt. “Probably not.”

 

She thinks of Duke: the look in his dark eyes whenever he ends up with more blood on his hands. _Maybe so._

 

“So we make bad decisions,” Audrey says, shrugging. His arms shift, heavy with his wiry muscles and warm through his layers. “It’s worked so far.”

 

Duke snorts, ducking his face into the curve of her shoulder, spine bowing. She can feel her hair flutter as he talks. “Your definition of “worked” needs a little work, I think.”

 

_I’ll show you ‘worked’,_ Lexie says. Audrey doesn’t.

 

“Come on,” is what Audrey says, one hand finding Duke’s face, tugging him towards her by the jaw. “A little less conversation, here. Someone could walk in at any moment, you know.”

 

Duke doesn’t kiss like Nathan. Nathan kisses like he’s jumping out of an airplane without a parachute. Nathan kisses like _Audrey_ is a parachute, and a five-thousand foot drop, and a harsh landing, all in one.

 

Duke kisses like he knows what he’s doing, and knows it, and likes it. Both his hands flatten against both sides of her ribcage, thumbs tracing the underwire of her bra, as he slides his tongue along her teeth.

 

Audrey kisses the way Matthew Blight and her figured out after hours of practicing in the empty drama room in high school, with a little bit of what she and vodka learned in college thrown in. Lexie kisses like she’s trying to fish ecstasy out from beneath someone else’s tongue.

 

(She has no idea how Sarah kisses. Nathan probably does.)

 

Duke tastes a little like hot cinnamon and mostly like people’s mouths usually taste: meat and heat. He nips along her jaw and she slips a hand into his pocket, digging out his phone.

 

“What do you think?” she asks, flipping it open. Duke doesn’t let go of her and her knuckles press into his chest as she pulls Nathan’s name up. ““FYI, Audrey’s fucking me in your office”? “Thought you should know”?”

 

“That would certainly get the message across."

 

She presses send and tucks the phone back into Duke’s jeans with a smile.

 

This is a bad idea, she knows - she wasn’t just kidding when she said any of the officers could walk in at any time. She could get suspended, fired, not to mention having to explain what she was doing necking someone that, for all intents and purposes, did not appear to be her boyfriend.

 

But really, what do they have to lose? After the Barn, after Lexie, after all that? Semi-public sex in the workplace barely dings on the radar.

 

Besides. It’s not like Dwight can really afford to fire her.

 

Somewhere inside of her, Lexie laughs.

 

The light easing into the office is the soft yellow of late evening, tempered by the fluorescents still striped under the blinds. She looks at Duke, olive skin and sharp lines and angles, and feels something settle inside her. Duke has a few hang-ups, she knows, but his own lust has never been one of them - his eyes are full of naked, unashamed want. Whatever part of her, Audrey Parker or not, that thinks this is a bad idea - well. Even it could get on board with this image.

 

His mouth finds hers immediately, fingers curling under her chin to tilt her head up. She sighs, letting him in. Duke’s hands roam lower, cupping her ass, tugging at the hem of her skirt, fingernails catching lightly on the skin of her thighs. Heat flares under her skin. She feels her muscles tighten, shuddering through her like a flag unfurling - hands curling, toes wiggling in her boots.

 

She palms him through his jeans, feels the hard line of his dick stiffening under her hand.

 

“Where are we doing this?” Duke mutters against her mouth. Audrey licks at his lips, tangling her fingers in the neck of one of his absurd cardigans, before drawing back enough to breathe.

 

“Desk?” she pants, thinking. Somewhere she can - oh, right. It hits her, obvious: “Nathan’s desk.”

 

She tugs him by the wrist over to it. Duke follows.

 

She presses down on his shoulders, insistent, and Duke goes, folding his body under himself easily, settling on his knees. He pauses, sitting in front of the mouth of the desk, hands curled on his thighs. It’s a little ridiculous, his lanky frame folded up in front of the small space. Audrey drops into the chair, wheels squeaking.

 

“Where do you - “ he starts, breaking off as she plants a boot on shoulder. The boots are heavy, leather and two-inch heels and tread like a motorcycle, lacing all the way up to her knees. Her heel settles on his collarbone, leg a long, wide angle stretched in front of her. Duke’s eyes slip closed. She watches him draw a breath, feels the rise of his chest through her sole. Waits. His face turns into her calf, eyes still screwed shut. Something in his jaw ticks and she stares, fascinated.

 

“Under the desk,” she says, pushing lightly.

 

He nods, knee-crawling backwards until his feet hit the back of the desk. It’s a tight fit for him. Audrey watches him shift, orient, and then go still. Duke’s lean and tall, like a kind of racing hound, but he knows the exact limits of his body, fits himself in the cramped space. His eyes finally look back at her, bright in the shadows. She kicks a heel on the floor, rolling forward. Pinning him in.

 

A pulse starts beating within her, low and slow.

 

“Is this a Lexie thing?” he asks, voice rough. “Because the Audrey Parker I know -”

 

“It’s a shut up and open your mouth thing,” Audrey says. “Well?” she prods, when he doesn’t move.

 

Duke grins.

 

Lexie has done this, had her knees slung over the shoulders of a boy in the handicap stall of a train station in El Paso. Of course, really there’d been no boy, no train, no El Paso. She wonders, sometimes, if the Barn had created the memories wholecloth, or if they had been stitched together from people and places she’d known in her other lives - if something in that boy’s mouth had been frankensteined from another lover. If maybe it held a little bit of Duke kissing her in a Colorado motel room, of Nathan pressing Sarah into the sand.

 

Duke circles a thumb over the ankle of her left boot. “You leaving these on, then?”

 

“Yeah,” she breathes. The smirk on her mouth is probably Lexie’s. She clears her throat. “Yeah.”

 

He grins up at her again, an even curl of teeth, eyes crinkled.

 

“All right.” His hands slide up, even pressure, over leather, dry on her skin. Duke thumbs at the hem of her skirt and she obligingly lifts her hips off the seat, letting him ruck the fabric up. She is wearing underwear today, Lexie’s sentiments aside, stuff from her own wardrobe, black cotton. Duke’s fingers hook into the elastic and tug them down, past her knees, stretching them over her boots.

 

He holds her panties up by one finger. “How long do you think it’d take Nathan to find these if we hide them in his desk?”

 

“Why hide them?” Audrey shrugs. “If he ever shows up I’ll hand them to him and he can know what he missed.”

 

“Good plan,” Duke says, and then his hands wrap around her calves, shouldering under them, tugging her close until his face is settled between her thighs.

 

“How do you want this?” he says. She settles a hand in his hair, soft beneath her touch. Duke looks up at her from under dark eyelashes, breath a little unsteady.

 

She says, “Now.”

 

He really is beautiful, the leanly muscled length of him, down on his knees for her. His hair falls in his eyes, slipping out of the loose tie it’d been in. The planes of his face are fine and sharp before his face bows and she loses sight of them, lets go of the thought, draws her bottom lip into her mouth and bites down.

 

Duke licks a wet stripe up the inside of her thigh, a swipe of cold. His grip is strong on her legs, holding her open.

 

Audrey’s already wet. She catches the sharp-salt smell of her own pussy as Duke pries her wider, shoulders spreading her knees. She presses her wrist against the arm of Nathan’s desk chair, feeling her own pulsebeat echoing back at her like a violent anthem.

 

Duke descends on her open-mouthed, no-holds-barred. The flat side of his teeth brush against her sensitive skin and then his tongue is swiping upwards inside of her, pointed and deliberate.

 

She exhales, fingers loosening in his hair.

  
Duke takes his time, licking her open like there’s no hurry. The strokes of his tongue are paced, torturous. She watches him pitch upwards on his knees with the lazy, liquid assurance of an over-sized cat. One hand snakes up from around her thigh, spreads her with two fingers, and she can feel his bare-toothed smile just before he skates the wide side of his tongue straight up the length of her cunt. His fingers curl, slipping inside of her as easy as anything. It’s slow, heat falling down through her legs and up over her stomach like a snowfall melting, muscles trembling in waves.

 

“Come on,” Audrey says. Her grip tightens again in his hair, twisting palm-up. She digs one heel into his back. He’ll probably have bruises tomorrow and she doesn’t bother calculating what part of her smiles at the thought. “Come on, Duke, fuck.”

  
Duke sighs, cold against her wetness. She feels his voice more than she hears it, thinks she can sense the shape of _all right_ and _demanding_ and is going to crook her boots back into him when he stops fooling around, rolls his tongue around her clit, and her back arches up off the chair.

 

The hair changes, the name changes, the history changes, but this body, she knows, is hers. She wonders if it ticks the same way for all of them - if Lucy liked it when somebody raked blunt fingernails down her hips, if Sarah had told Nathan to kiss her right above that little crease, where her thigh met her waist and her skin prickles at a breath of contact, if all of them have to fight the same urge to draw their knees together when someone who really knows what they’re doing licks down their clit.

 

She should make Nathan tell her, what he and Sarah did. All of it. He’d do it if she asked - stammer his way through it and she’d make him look her in the eyes the whole time. And then? Maybe she’d run him through it, see if she can’t do better than the old model. She can’t be jealous of Sarah, it doesn’t make any _sense_ , but hell. She bets she can show her up.

 

Duke’s fingers are sliding in and out of her now, faster and faster until she can _hear_ it, the slick-slap sound. Audrey closes her eyes, rocks her hips up into the motion. Duke’s other hand tightens on her thigh, bruising, holds her steady. She curls her legs, digging her heels in until he makes a sound: a deep, tremulous, keen. Sweat is sticking the thin cotton of her shirt to her skin. He sucks on her clit, lets her feel his teeth until she swears, “ _Fucking_ hell, _Duke_ , fuck - “

 

The door swings open.

 

“Parker,” Nathan says. “Why are you sitting at my desk?”

 

“Beca-ah-use,” she says, voice snapping the syllables in half. “Shit. Because, Wuornos. Yours is bigger than mine.”

 

Audrey opens her eyes. Nathan is standing in the doorframe, a broad-shouldered figure silhouetted in light. His brow is furrowed.

 

“Nathan,” she growls. “Come inside. Shut the fucking door. And get over here.”

 

Nathan stares at her another moment, his eyes wide and gleaming in the low light, and then he does.

 

He glances down at her hand, pressed flatly to his desk top, crumpling the neat stack of reports he’d had sitting there. Her nail beds are white.

 

“Are you all right?” he asks cautiously.

 

“Mmm,” Audrey says.

 

“Where’s Duke?” he asks, stepping closer.

 

“Mmm,” Audrey says.

 

She peeks up at him, watches him freeze as he curiously sniffs the air.

 

“Parker?” he asks again, voice thready.

 

Unwinding her hand from the fist she’d squeezed it into, she shoves the panties across the desk. Nathan stares down at the little crumple of black fabric. She watches the motion of his throat as he swallows hard.

 

“Under the desk.”

 

Nathan finally moves close enough to look down.

 

Audrey clamps down on her tongue to fight the snarl that threatens to rip out of her as Duke pulls away, crooking his neck to smile up at Nathan. His jaw is slick.

 

“Hey, Nate,” Duke gasps. “How’s it going?”

 

Audrey tugs him back down.

 

“Nice of you to finally join us,” she grits out.

 

“I was debriefing with the chief,” Nathan says mildly. His eyes are focused on her lap. “I got your message.”

 

Audrey purrs through her teeth. Duke’s tongue continues to circle her clit, rocking with a tempo she can’t catch onto, quick and hard and then agonisingly slow. His fingers are still working, inside her to the last the knuckle. Her pussy feels swollen and hot, blood rushing down. She can feel something building inside her, like the tide pooling over itself, rising and rising. Her skin is _burning_.

 

Nathan is staring down at where Duke’s head is bobbing between her legs. She watches as he licks unconsciously at his lips, finds herself staring at the little glistening smear his tongue leaves behind. Hesitantly, he reaches out, touches the fabric of her panties.

 

“Nathan,” she says, swiping at him. She catches his hand, threading her fingers through his. She knows to watch for it, now, the happiness that floods him whenever she makes contact. He smiles helplessly. “Come here.”

 

Nathan comes, sliding over until he’s half-sitting on the desk, a tall, straight line. Her fingers struggle for her panties, clumsy, until she presses them into his hand, holding his gaze. Wordlessly, Nathan pockets them. With a very deliberate grasp, he wraps her small hand in both of his.

 

“Was this your idea?”

 

“Hrrrn,” Audrey says. “Team effort.”

 

“Bet he was happy.”

 

“Wouldn’t you be?”

 

Nathan presses her knuckles to his lips, briefly. “Ecstatic.”

 

“Fuck,” Audrey says. Her hips jerk, nails scrabbling at the nape of Duke’s neck. “Duke, I -”

 

“Come on, Audrey,” Nathan says. His voice is wolfish: low and harsh. “Come on, you want to come, don’t you? Look at him down there, working so hard for it, so eager - “

 

A flush is spreading over Nathan’s face. She knows he can’t feel it, falls a little more, stupidly, in love with him. Nathan’s no good at this, dirty talk, but that’s good in its own way.

 

Audrey bares her teeth at him, half a smile.

 

_Dumbass_ , Lexie says. _All of you._

 

Her head feels both heavy and empty. Audrey starts to suckle air in through her teeth, chest heaving, and - 

 

The door swings open.

 

Audrey nearly gets whiplash snapping her head up. She sees Nathan do the same, twisting over his shoulder.

 

“Hey, Nathan, did you finish that report on - “ Dwight says. He glances up from the file in his hand, blinks at the two of them.

 

“Hello,” Audrey says, grinding her teeth. Duke’s tongue flicks out against her clit, light and teasing.

 

“Chief,” Nathan acknowledges with a nod. “Still working through it.”

 

Dwight pauses, one hand still splaying open the file, the other frozen on the door handle, heel in the air. He looks from Audrey, to Nathan, and back to Audrey.

 

Audrey recognises that look. She’s worn it enough times. It’s an _I don’t need to deal with this shit_ look.

 

“I’m going to come back,” Dwight says finally. He coughs. “another time. Tomorrow, maybe. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

 

Very carefully, without breaking eye contact, he backs out the door, letting it slam in his wake.

 

She can feel Duke laughing, mouth pressed wetly to her flank.

 

“Hey,” Audrey says, fingers corkscrewing in his hair. She pushes him face-down.

 

Nathan sighs. He turns back around, mouth crooked.

 

This time when Lexie laughs, Audrey does too.

 

Nathan is growing hard watching them. She can see his dick tenting his jeans. She tightens her grip on his hand, lets her head fall back against the chair as Duke gets back to work.

 

Audrey’s never been a turn up and turn on kind of girl. It takes work, whether she’s with somebody or by herself, coaxing out an orgasm. Lexie didn’t come easy, either, she knows, but Lexie liked hard, fast fucks anyway, riding the pleasure even if it never came to a head. Audrey likes it, too - sex is sex is good. But she’s been learning to take a little more, these days: take things slow, take what she’s due. This one’s been building steadily for a while now. Like waves drenching the shore, tide coming in until she’s neck deep. Her body is hot, muscles clenching from her belly to her knees. She’s panting, breath coming faster and faster and faster, engine running full tilt.

 

And that - seeing Dwight, knowing he must’ve suspected _something_ was going on, even if he didn’t figure there was a six foot two smuggler hidden under the desk giving her head? Well. That certainly doesn’t slow her engine down.

 

Nathan brings his free hand up to cup her face. His thumb swipes over her lip and then his hand turns, pressing palm-down over her mouth.

 

“Come on,” Nathan says again. “Come on, Parker.”

 

Audrey does.

 

It doesn’t hit her hard, eases up on her from all sides, a banked fire fanning into full blaze. Her lips are hot, Nathan’s hand is _hot_. She clamps down on the fleshy heel of Nathan’s hand, teeth digging in, a satisfied cry trapped in her mouth. Nathan’s fingers tighten on her jaw. From what sounds like very far away, she hears Duke groan.

 

Her brain goes to that wet bright silent place.

 

Audrey sighs, deeply sated, feels herself soften around the edges. All this: floodwater, bonfires, engines gunning, doesn’t quite describe how it feels there but. _But._

 

When she comes back to herself, Nathan is staring down at her, lips quirked. He looks at her the way he always does - like she is the first sight of a lighthouse after sailing a storm-tossed sea for days. Like she's something poetic. She shakes her head, knocking his hand loose.

 

_Huh,_ Lexie says. _Not bad._

 

Audrey looks down to where Duke is still kneeling between her legs. His shoulders are trembling. She eases her knees off of him, biting her lip as her muscles finally relax.

 

Duke smiles up at her. His face is wet.

 

She brushes her foot against him, gently, and smiles back.

 

Duke climbs to his feet, legs unsteady, and tugs at Nathan’s neck. Nathan lets him, goes easy, twisting, lips finding his. Duke kisses him ruthlessly. The three of them, this close, it's more a tangle than anything.

 

The noise Nathan makes is desperate, tasting her on Duke’s mouth.

 

Gulping air, they break apart. Audrey wheels backwards until both of them have just enough room to lean against the desk. Her boys. Nathan would die for her, Duke would kill for her, and times like this? Mostly, Audrey just wants them all to live. She feels wrung-out, throat sore although she never even made a real sound. Her limbs feel liquid, sluggish. Brain like a cat curled in the sun. She reaches out, hands tugging at their hands, and they comply. Duke’s grip is hot and sweat-slick and she brushes the back of his hand, the veins. Both of them are hard, she can see that, aching for it, but. Well. Time and place.

 

Duke looks back and forth between the two of them, smile wide, without struggling to hide it. Nathan is looking at Duke, not quite glaring.

 

“Don’t,” Nathan warns.

 

“Don’t what?” Duke asks, looking like a fox that had eaten the entire hen house and was currently trying to convince the farmer it had already looked like that when he showed up. “What am I doing?”

 

“You’re thinking of a bad idea, I can tell. Don’t do it.”

 

“It’s actually a great idea, thanks for asking,” says Duke. He fidgets, tonguing his eyeteeth. Audrey watches, sifting through the warm glowing haze in her mind to think.

 

Duke, she knows, has some kind of five-step plan along the lines of _How to Get Nathan Wuornos to Come in His Pants_. Not that he’d ever admit it. It’s not that Duke takes Nathan’s inability to feel him as a personal affront, more that it offends his sense of hedonism that Nathan has apparently never bothered to experiment with any of the ways he could’ve been getting off without needing to feel anything at all.

 

_He’s got four other senses_ , he had growled to her after a few glasses of rum once. They both know it’s more than that, Nathan’s biggest issues have never been his Trouble but. Well. He does have four other senses, and Duke has plans.

 

“You’re thinking of Nathan, aren’t you,” she cuts in, voice a rasp, before Nathan can retort. She rests her elbows on her knees, studying Duke. “Getting on your knees like that for him. Letting him fuck your face while you’re trapped under that desk like a dirty secret.”

 

She watches his throat as he swallows hard.

 

Audrey has plans, too.

 

“It might not have quite the same effect,” Nathan says lightly. “All things considered.”

 

Duke scoffs.

 

“Come on, Wuornos,” he says, smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “You’re easy. Like I’d even _need_ to touch you.”

 

Nathan raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

 

“I could get you off with my hands tied behind my back.” Duke looks over him, considering. Audrey watches as his tongue draws, cat-like, over his lips. “Hell. Might even be quicker with my hands tied.”

 

Nathan circles a finger through the handcuffs pinned to his waist. Audrey meets his eyes, feels the smile split her face.

 

“Next time, maybe.”

 

Duke grins, bright and sharp like a knife unfolding.

 

“Next time.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So. Haven has completely consumed my brain lately and I’ve been dying to write something about these three losers. What I somehow ended up with was four thousand odd words of cunnilingus, even though I patently cannot write porn. But what can you do? This is unbetaed and probably needed at least one more edit, so all mistakes are assuredly my own.
> 
> I'd love it if you'd let me know what you think.


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